


the mortifying ordeal of being miya atsumu

by mobpsycho100



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Beaches, Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, aka being a clown, atsumu being atsumu, msby black jackals big 4 shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24229729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mobpsycho100/pseuds/mobpsycho100
Summary: Atsumu faces one of his greatest fears- himself.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 31
Kudos: 271





	the mortifying ordeal of being miya atsumu

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! i come bearing with a new atsuhina beach fic :3c
> 
> i've been meaning to do this for so long and finally, here it is!! writing atsumu is so much fun. highly recommend.
> 
> i hope you all enjoy! come talk to me on twitter and let's scream about atsuhina [together](https://twitter.com/nichirinblade)
> 
> \- ella <3

The sun had begun to set in the solitary beach of Maezato, casting warm hues on everything the light had touched. The taste of sea salt continued to linger on Atsumu’s tongue every time he breathed in; the soothing waves served as his background noise, along with— 

“HEY.” 

—the sound of a pile of wood falling followed by a resonating _shit._

“HEY ATSUMU GET YOUR ASS IN HERE AND HELP US SET UP THE CAMPFIRE,” said Bokuto as he picked up some of the fallen pieces of wood before chucking them to the growing pile of wood in front of him.

Atsumu sighed, closing his eyes in annoyance as he turned away from the hypnotizing scene of Hinata catching a fish with his bare hands. The light bounced off the curls of his bright-orange locks, giving them an even more ethereal glow as it glistened under the setting sun. It’s criminal to look like that Atsumu decided, nobody was allowed to look like they came out straight out of a commercial by catching a fucking fish. 

Fuck. He really needed to stop staring.

Nicki Minaj’s voice reverberated in the background, amplified by Hinata’s ancient boombox that he found at the garage of his childhood home and brought along for the trip, shaking Atsumu out of his reverie as he walked towards Bokuto and the fallen logs of wood. No Nicki, starships weren’t meant to fly, he thought to himself, not when you’ve got a mysophobe, an owl that hoots louder than it’s legally allowed to, and the actual personification of the sun itself as your ship crew.

“I thought this was supposed to be a break. A break! Why do I have to do shit,” Atsumu complained, eyes rolling dramatically with arms up in the air in exasperation, but started walking towards the unfinished campsite anyway. 

“Yes. Keep whining like that and the only thing you’ll be eating is shit,” Sakusa gave him an impassive stare, before going back to setting up the table beside the campfire where they would lay all of their food. 

Grumbling under his breath, Atsumu began picking up pieces of dried leaves and driftwood that scattered along the perimeter of the campsite, occasionally looking towards the direction of the sea. Totally not looking at the way the water droplets rolled down Hinata’s form, making his shirt stick to his skin, giving him a peek of the flushed skin underneath the now semi-translucent cloth. 

Yeah. He’s fucked.

May God give him the strength to last at least for tonight.

\--

They finished setting up the campfire at exactly 7:20 PM, the sun had fully set and had been replaced by the waning moon. By the time the fire was lit, it was already time to eat dinner. Sakusa and Bokuto were the designated cooks while Hinata volunteered himself as their source of entertainment in the meantime, shouting a quick I’ll be back _,_ before disappearing into the beach house they were staying at (courtesy of the Sakusa family, holy shit were they rich).

Atsumu, ever the helpful, decided to lay near the fire and just call it a day. Eyes closed with his hands under his head, the pulsating heat danced across his face as the coarse sand pressed against his feet; the voice of Sakusa threatening Bokuto to stop eating everything they put out or else _,_ blessed his ears.

Rolling his tongue in his mouth, he tried to not think about Hinata. A recurring topic in his mind in the past, what, seven years? Tried not to think about how the stars had perfectly aligned for him (god he hated sounding cheesy, but let him have this moment), to fulfill the promise he boldly declared to Hinata years ago or how his body trembled in newfound excitement, heart beating faster as adrenaline fueled him from head to toe— oh, how beautiful it was to bear witness the not-so-little crow leap and soar _so_ much higher than before, into the sky— on the same side of the court as him. How exhilarating it was, seeing their bodies move in perfect synch, Atsumu positioning himself for a toss as Hinata jumped, the ball flying high up in the air before a resonating bam echoed throughout the MSBY Black Jackals’ gym as Hinata’s palm smacked the ball dead on. 

\--

Atsumu watched as Hinata’s feet touched the ground, absolutely enamored with the way everything seemed to gravitate towards him. All eyes were on the boy who traveled across the world as an ode to his passion for volleyball. It’s funny, how Atsumu would always fight for attention. Call him a narcissist sure, however, he had always worked hard to get where he is, he fucking deserved it; but in this moment, for the first time ever, he felt something different swell up inside him. Something he had never felt in a long, long time. 

Look at him, he wanted to shout at the depths of everything and nothing at once. 

Look at how I made him fly.

\--

Far too deep in his own ass, Atsumu didn’t notice the sound of footsteps pattering on the sand before it came to a stop. A strum of a guitar was heard, finally shaking him out of his inner turmoil. Atsumu looked for the source of the sound before settling on the man that has been occupying his thoughts almost every hour of the day.

Right in front of him, figure slightly hazy from the dancing fire, was Hinata, fingers softly plucking the strings of his guitar. Warm hues met tanned skin, the orange of his hair illuminated, almost as if a crown of blazing fire was rested upon his head.

Atsumu was not one for religion but he swore at this moment, he found it in Hinata. 

In a trance, Atsumu's eyes focused on Hinata as he opened his mouth; a soft, melodious sound filled the night, even Bokuto and Sakusa had to pause what they were doing for a second to look at the source. Bokuto, about to speak words of praise no doubt, was immediately shut up by Atsumu’s glare. Don’t interrupt or I swear to fucking god Bokuto, his eyes said.

With eyes closed, Hinata paid them no mind as he continued singing, each verse sang with a touch of delicateness and warmth; it’s exactly what Atsumu envisioned his voice would be, full of passion yet lighthearted. Atsumu clung to every word that fell on his lips, found himself sitting up and leaning closer to the fire. He needed to get close, closer to where Hinata was. 

A laugh interrupted the humming of the song, “Atsumu-san, come any closer and you’ll get burned,” Hinata paused his little concert, a small smile on his face as he looked at Atsumu, eyes bright as the stars and shit, Atsumu panicked. He’d been caught. 

Feeling his cheeks flush in embarrassment, Atsumu tried to play it off with a laugh. “Don’t worry your pretty little head Shoyou-kun, don’t you know I’m hot as fire? I can’t burn.”

Cue in the collective groans of Sakusa and Bokuto, Sakusa muttering, please shut the fuck up just this once not long after. 

The smile present in Atsumu’s face hid the internal agony he’s currently in. In his mind, there were two Atsumu’s having a face-off over how much of a fucking dumbass he is.

No one was winning. 

Hinata let out a snort, before flashing Atsumu a cheeky smile. Atsumu had to hold in his breath before his resolve crumbles, spilling every praise and loves songs he could never— would never say out loud. 

“If you say so.”

The soft melody continued once more. 

Atsumu ached. The sort of ache he got whenever he trained past his limits. He didn't mind if it was physical, he knew he'll be good in a day or two. Except this type of ache stayed and festered. It lingered, creeping onto him without any warning. He doesn’t know for how long he could bear it, but for now, he allowed himself to drown into the sound of Hinata, washing away his thoughts. 

\--

Dinner had finally arrived, plates of steaming hot fish and freshly cooked crabs laid on top of the table they had previously set. Sakusa had just set down the pot of rice before chaos ensued. Hands darted out to grab their respective portions; the clattering of plates and chopsticks and idle chatter filled the night. Bokuto regaled them with tales of his high school adventures with Akaashi, Hinata hanging on to his every word while Sakusa struggled to crack open a crab.

Then there’s Atsumu, idly picking his food with his chopsticks, mind miles away from where they were, occupied with thoughts of inadequacy. Nothing big, just his daily dose of self-loathing. He felt a pair of eyes bore through him; call it a setter’s instinct, because he could tell exactly who it was. 

Atsumu didn’t have the heart nor strength to look back, opted to chomp down on his now-cold crab legs instead.

\--

The night was almost coming to an end, dishes were put away and the remaining food was stored to eat in the following morning. The four were now just chilling beside the campfire, all eyes on Hinata as he told them about that one time he got robbed while on his job in Brazil. 

“That’s fucking messed up,” Boktuto said, eyes widening akin to his namesake. 

Sakusa asked him about _that_ photo that broke the local volleyball internet right after it was posted.

“Ah,” Hinata started, eyes thoughtful as he reminisced, “same day after I got robbed I met Tooru-kun. Imagine my surprise meeting the Grand King in Brazil of all places! We played a couple of games and then he treated me to dinner right after, it was awesome!” 

Oikawa Tooru _,_ no _,_ Tooru-san _._ Atsumu’s mind reeled. Who didn’t know about Oikawa fucking Tooru. One of the best setters in Japan (not as good as him though, Atsumu had convinced himself), now in the Argentinian foreign league. Handsome (not as handsome as him, self-proclaimed). Popular (just as popular as he was, he checked). Shitty personality (just like yours, Sakusa’s voice echoed in the back of his mind). And apparently, already on a first-name basis with Shouyou. Great.

Atsumu was not jealous. He’d rather choke on his crab leg and dive headfirst into the depths of the Maezeto beach than admit he’s jealous of someone he had never even met, much less interact with, aside from having each of their posters displayed side by side in an ad for Pocari Sweat by the Tokyo subway.

Besides, he’s also on a first-name basis with Shouyou. Oikawa’s not that special.

Atsumu felt something wet drip down his pants, a tiny trickle then suddenly, a stream of liquid came crashing down, drenching his entire bottom half. He looked down to his Ramune-soaked pants, then to his left hand— a crumpled plastic cup with barely any liquid left clenched with his fist— then back to his pants. He sighed.

Okay, maybe he was a little jealous.

\--

Excusing himself from the group, pants unbearably sticky from the dried-up Ramune, Atsumu got up and went back to the Sakusa beach house to change his pants, grumbling something about how the universe was unfair and out to get him. 

Sakusa and Bokuto shared a knowing look as they watched Atsumu walk away. Sakusa rolled his eyes, already used to Atsumu’s schtick, and went back to picking up tiny seashells to add to his collection back home. Bokuto’s gaze held a touch of pity for Atsumu, subtly shaking his head before going back to taking selfies to send to Akaashi. 

Hinata’s face was completely unreadable. 

\--

Atsumu was scrubbing the hell out of his bottoms in the kitchen sink, releasing all the pent up frustrations he managed to collect over the course of just one (1) day on his poor jeans. It was strangely cathartic. Atsumu scrubbed harder, letting out a laugh in satisfaction while doing so. God, if anyone were to see him they’d surely think he’s mental.

“Atsumu-san.”

The scrubbing came to a stop, jeans rustling as it fell down in the basin. Only the rushing of the water from the sink was heard, echoing loudly in the otherwise silent room. 

Atsumu froze, suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The pitter-patter of water as it dripped down on the jeans in the sink. Nicki Minaj’s Starship had once again started playing back at the campsite, Bokuto obnoxiously singing the chorus of the song. 

He then realized his current state of undress, onigiri patterned-boxers (given by Osamu as a prank gift on their 21st birthday) out in the open for the world to see. 

For Hinata to see. 

Oh God, what the fuck. What the fuck. Atsumu felt his neck burn and shoulders stiffen up, too afraid to turn around and face the last person he would ever want to show his Totally Not Cool state of being.

“Atsumu-san.”

The voice was a lot closer now, Atsumu could hear the footsteps shuffling towards him, could almost feel the air closing in on him.

Slowly turning the faucet off, Atsumu braced himself. Putting up a cheerful disposition, Atsumu turned around and flashed Hinata a smile as fake as that Gucci slides he bought from eBay back when it was trending two summers ago.

“Did you need something, Shouyou-kun?” 

Hinata’s eyes were on him, wide and searching. Atsumu felt his pulse rise, smile faltering as the silence continued to stretch.

…

…

Still, nothing came out of Hinata’s mouth. Atsumu lost his smile completely, lips now nervously twitching in dreaded anticipation. He saw Hinata’s gaze slowly trace down from his face to his boxers. 

Atsumu wanted to scream and perhaps, move prefectures and change his identity and adopt two cats and never look back. 

Suddenly, Hinata’s laugh filled the kitchen, full and bright and warm. Atsumu would have marveled at the sound of it any other time, but not right now. Not when he’s the butt of the joke. 

Tears were starting to form in Hinata’s eyes, no signs of him stopping any time soon. 

Atsumu wanted to die. He felt his knees buckle, hands covering his flushed face as he slowly descended into a crouch in front of Hinata.

“Fuck, please stop laughing. I’m dying here. Shouyou-kun you’re horrible.”

Hinata tried to control his laugh, he really did, but he couldn’t stop the occasional wheeze that came out of his mouth. Crouching down in front of Atsumu, whose hands were still covering his heated face, Hinata let out a final chuckle, “Sorry Atsumu-san, you’re just too cute. Your boxers too.” 

Burying his face deeper into his hands, Atsumu still refused to look at the boy in front of him. He could feel how close Hinata was, hated how his body immediately went to overdrive on this fact alone. The words _you’re just too cute_ bounced and bounced and bounced around his head like an old Windows XP screensaver.

Warm, callused hands gently grabbed Atsumu’s own. Through the gaps of his fingers he could see Hinata giving him a smile, softly calling out his name while trying to pry his hands off of his face. 

“I refuse. Fuck. Stop that. You saw nothing. I am nothing.”

Atsumu sensed the grip on his hands tighten all of a sudden, and with one harsh tug, his face was completely exposed. He didn’t even realize how close Hinata really was until now, feeling the warm puff of air Hinata let out as he exhaled, each spot and freckle dotting his face were open for Atsumu to see.

That’s it. Atsumu was going to die at the young age of 23. 

Cause of death: Hinata Shouyou and that one freckle (Atsumu had only seen now) near his mouth. 

It didn’t even register to Atsumu at first, the sensation of warm hands cupping his face with so much care he believed he didn’t deserve. Taken aback at the unexpected sign of affection, Atsumu still refused to look Hinata in the eye.

“Atsumu-san,” Hinata said, pressing his hands on Atsumu’s cheeks a little firmer. “How many times do I have to say your name for you to look at me?”

“Hah, maybe I just like hearing you say my name. Maybe that’s why I’m not responding.” 

Atsumu immediately regretted letting that slip out of his mouth. God, he’s personally digging his own grave at this point. Pulling his face out of Hinata’s grasp, he resorted to crossing his arms and burying his face along with his shame on it.

With a sigh, Hinata opted to crouch beside Atsumu, mimicking his posture. Tilting his head in Atsumu’s direction, Hinata leaned in closer to whisper in Atsumu’s ear, “What if I told you I like calling out your name?” 

A choke, followed by a coughing fit escaped Atsumu’s mouth. He felt Hinata’s hand soothingly rub his back as the coughing didn’t seem to stop.

“Oh shit, probably shouldn’t have said that, huh.”

Eyes wide, Atsumu finally lifted his head to look at Hinata.

“You’re killing me here, Shouyou-kun.”

Hinata offered him an apologetic smile, but seemed far too pleased at his reaction for him to believe it. Silence enveloped the room once more. Atsumu’s at his fucking limit. Of what, he didn’t know. 

Fiddling with his hands, he mumbled, “Sorry for uh, ignoring you. And being weird. Sorry for ignoring you and being weird about it." 

Taking a deep breath, Atsumu steeled his gaze on Hinata, “Also, I love you. So there’s that.”

Hinata looked at him, expression indiscernible. Atsumu held his breath.

“Atsumu-san, I think I like you better with less clothes on.”

“Thank you, I— WHAT?”

Atsumu didn't have the time to overthink as he felt Hinata’s lips gently press his own. 

And as quickly as it came, it was gone. 

Without a word, Hinata stood up and held out his hand. He called out Atsumu’s name one last time, a certain type of fondness present in his voice.“Let’s go back, yeah? Bet Bokuto’s driving Sakusa insane, can’t let him have all the fun.”

Atsumu blinked, still trying to process what just happened. He looked at the outstretched hand, then to Hinata and his blinding smile. A sense of calmness washed over him.

Fuck it, Atsumu thought, taking Hinata’s hand firmly with his own.

No need to overthink. Wherever this hand will take Atsumu, he’d always follow.

**Author's Note:**

> yes. atsumu went back to the campsite in his onigiri boxers. yes shouyou planned that. Fs in the chat for atsumu, you bet ur asses sakusa and bokuto clowned him for it.  
> i was supposed to add a bonus scene of that, but i wanted to post this straight away, apologies. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed! kudos and comments are much appreciated!
> 
> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/nichirinblade)  
> see you next time!
> 
> \- ella <3


End file.
